ChapbookSelections From Web Del SolBLACK MAGIC
In this way monksin certain Himalayan monasteries manifest women out of thin air while balancingcups of steaming gooseberry tea on their cocks. I understand thisnow and all the laws of psychology. And how my thoughtshave been traveling beneath your skin. Sometimes you hear them in dreamsor at dusk like the drip of a faucet or the evening news. You can't restat all, much less sleep. Of course, you mighttry to resist, but it's as hopeless as a prayer, clinging to the impossible. In a matter of minutes,you're lifted from the bed or couch and out on the streets, your dressquivering in the wind like a loose sail. Strangers watch you go. They don't knowhow it happens. A woman suddenly following the darkened streets, perhapseven flying on wings. Nor do they understandthe danger of it, and that it is I who am to blame. Or how it feelsto fly, the fear, the lack of control, that sensation like new teeth cuttinginto the shoulder blades. When you arrive,knocking on my door, there's always that first moment when you might plummetfrom the air, when you feel my thoughts wash over your body like a lovingglance or a cold stare. And I know, foran instant, you've become a mere a figment of my imagination, or a silhouette,lit by my mind. Or my sorrow. I even know whatyou fear. The day I will say to myself, This woman is not be all she'scracked up to be. The day you'll think,Thisman is a real son of witch. And a flicker of anger will singe our skins. That's always thebeginning, the taste of bitterness and salt when we first lick the surfaceof our tiny black hearts. from Ploughshares Home |